


I’d Trade it all for Your Sweet Embrace

by Ecto_biologist



Category: Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt and comfort, Nightmares, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sharing a Body, Soft Johnny Silverhand, Street Kid V (Cyberpunk 2077)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-27
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:21:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29033826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ecto_biologist/pseuds/Ecto_biologist
Summary: V is awoken from another uncomfortably vivid nightmare, seeking comfort in her sentient brain tumor. Feelings ensue.More tags to be added as the story progresses
Relationships: Johnny Silverhand/Female V
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	I’d Trade it all for Your Sweet Embrace

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so nervous to write a cyberpunk fic because the lore is so deep BUT imma try my best uwu
> 
> Johnny’s death upsets me so much and i wanted to write to vent. It’s gunna go farther than this obv though
> 
> It’s been a hot second since i’ve posted a fic

Gunshots. Smoke. Perhaps a grenade or two. 

People yelling. Were they yelling at her? What were they yelling? She tried honing in on their words, to no avail. Her surroundings blurred in streaks as she brought herself to stand cautiously.

Whatever the circumstances, V found her body moving of its own accord, weaving through various obstacles on her path to wherever the hell it was she was going. Wherever it was, she knew she  _ had _ to get there. Fast.

It all looked so familiar, yet completely foreign at the same time. In fact, the situation itself felt familiar. As if she’d lived it multiple times over.

The fog shrouding her brain prevented her from digging any further however, instead simply trudging along, gun in hand to fulfill whatever mission she was on. 

A dizziness overcame her just then, weakening her knees before an unseen force seemed to shove her to the ground with a dull thud. 

In the time it took her to blink, she was standing upright again. Only… she wasn’t standing. She was  _ hanging. _ Hanging onto a person, to be exact. 

Rogue…?

Before she had any time to think, V found herself plummeting downwards, away from the outstretched hand of her teammate. 

_ Fuck, don’t leave me!  _ A voice echoed from within her, her heart suddenly sinking into her feet as she met pure concrete.  _ Come back!!! _ She felt more than heard, pain shooting up and down her spine as she watched the helicopter holding her would-be savior turn and rise higher into the sky. 

She managed to catch one glowing red glimpse of something monstrous before her vision cut out once again. 

When she came to this time, V was only aware of pain.  _ So. Much. Pain.  _ Everywhere. Her chest, her arms, her legs, her head,  _ everywhere.  _

“Where did you acquire fissile material?!” A very angry voice prompted her.  _ What material?? _

She slowly looked around to find two people standing in front of her, a man and a woman. Both of whom were well dressed. She on the other hand, appeared to be strapped down to something. Fear began to set in as she realized that this didn’t look like a situation she was walking away from.

The space seemed to shift, her focus zeroing in on a figure who had entered the room. She couldn’t see his face, but she knew him. His presence was enough to have her struggling against her restraints fruitlessly. 

“Saburo Arasaka.” Came her own voice, deep and dripping with a mixture of hatred and fear that she felt in her very core.

The man responded in sounds that could not possibly have been any existing language, his form shifting and warping where he stood.

“My husband died in that tower.” Came the woman’s voice from beside her, distant and echoey as she tapped something into a nearby screen. 

The next few moments were filled with what was possibly the most excruciating pain V had ever experienced. A scream left her mouth, her voice sounding foreign to her but still coming from her throat nonetheless. Fear wracked through her body as she felt her nerves broil her alive, frying her from the inside out slowly.  _ This is how I die. _ She thought to herself, glancing around one last time through tear-clouded eyes.  _ Alone. _

“Kid, snap out of it!” Yet another voice yelled at her, however this one rang out crystal clear. She looked for the source, a firm hand pulling her head to look in its direction. 

“You’re dreamin, V. Wake the fuck up!” 

———————

A scream, followed by a gasp of air as if she’d been underwater for 5 minutes. 

V sat up like her life depended on it, panting as she glanced around at her surroundings. 

She was in her apartment. She had never  _ left _ her apartment, in fact. 

She reached up to clutch at her chest, her heart still racing as her lungs continued to try to catch up with her. 

“Bad dream?” 

V looked up to see Johnny in his usual hangout spot by the window, cigarette in hand as he leaned against the sill. 

She sighed, rubbing her hands across her face before pushing her messy hair out of it. “You could say that.” She replied, her voice rough and still a bit sleepy. 

“Talk to me.” 

V let out a dry huff of a laugh. “What do you care?” She asked, laying back down and trying to get comfortable again. It absolutely did not work. 

“Because i know exactly what you were dreamin about, and nobody on this earth is gunna understand it better than me.” Johnny responded, putting out his imaginary cigarette before glitching to her bedside. 

Damn. He did kind of have a point. 

“You can see my dreams?” She asked, rolling over to face him as she propped herself up on one elbow. 

“Yep. Every last one of em. It’s not like I really need to sleep or anything.” He responded, laying down himself and mimicking V’s position. “They usually don’t make any sense, like most dreams.”

“But that one did.” She finished his thought, thinking back to the memory she had just relived yet again. It hadn’t been her first time reliving one of Johnny’s memories, but that hadn’t made it any easier. Especially since her brain had chosen the  _ worst  _ memory of them all. 

“Sure did. So, you ready to spill?” Johnny prodded, slipping his shades off as they glitched into thin air. 

V let out a sigh. “I’m not a very… ‘talk about my feelings’ kinda gal…” 

“Yeah, and do i look like anybody’s first choice for a therapist?” 

A chuckle escaped her, imagining Johnny’s ambitious fictional career change. “Yeah, you kind of have the emotional know-how of a scopburger.” 

“Thaaaanks, actually I've decided that you can suffer by yourself.” Johnny rolled in the opposite direction, earning a laugh from V. 

“Ok ok! Who’s comforting who here?” She teased as she reached over and turned him back over, the playful atmosphere veiling her unease for the moment. She knew there was no point in hiding how deeply the dream had shaken her, because Johnny could see right through her despite her best efforts. How do you hide things from someone who lives  _ inside your brain _ ?

“Go on, spit it out. I’m not- scratch that, i am a mind reader. Pretend i’m not, though.” Johnny encouraged, in what V could only guess was his weird way of trying to be supportive. 

V took a deep breath, the discomfort creeping back into her as the images and emotions from earlier swept through her once again. 

“It hurt.” She started, her voice suddenly small, lacking its typical over-confidence. “I mean, it’s not like i’ve never seen your memories before, but… shit.” She fiddled with her sheets idly, refusing to make eye contact with her spectral guest. “The more time I spend with you, the more the memories affect me. It’s like… they get more real each time.” 

“Sounds about right.” Came Johnny’s response, surprisingly lacking in sarcasm. “The more time passes, the closer our psyches’ll get.” 

“I know. I mean, i feel like there’s another reason though, y’know?” V replied, finally looking up to meet Johnny’s gaze. “It feels like it’s happening to me when I'm dreaming, and that sucks, but when I wake up i’m able to realize it was a dream. And that was okay when it first started, because I had no idea who’s memories I was living. But-“

“-Now you’ve got a face to put to the pain.” Johnny cut her off, finishing the sentence for her. 

V nodded. “Yeah. Basically.” 

“So what, you’re mournin me now? It’s a lil late for that. Been what, 50 years?” Johnny teased, poking at V’s side to ease the tension that had begun seeping into him. Feelings definitely weren’t a strong suit for him. But hey, at least he was trying.

“Yes.” V stated bluntly, watching as Johnny’s expression dropped at the admission. It was his turn to avoid her eyes, instead running a hand through his hair as he flopped onto his back. 

“Hey come on, V… there are a billion other suckers out there more deserving of your pity than Johnny Silverhand.” 

“It’s not pity. I don’t pity the dead, I  _ miss  _ them. I miss Jackie, I miss Evelyn, and I miss  _ you. _ ” Johnny could have sworn her voice got softer on the last word. 

“V, you never even knew me.” 

“I didn’t have to. I know you now.” 

“But-“

“Johnny.” 

He looked up, finally locking eyes with V to find that she was staring at him with an emotion he just couldn’t seem to pinpoint. 

“Grayson said something to me that night on the Ebunike, and I haven't been able to shake it outta my brain since.” She admitted, her voice laced with pain. 

“Yeah? Which part? It was all trash. Motherfucker didn’t know when to shut up.” 

“When he asked if i wanted to hear how you died.” V’s voice softened, the ache in her chest echoing in Johnny’s as well. “The way he said it. ‘Soaked in his own piss, neurons fried by Soulkiller’...” she trailed off, going silent as she remembered the scene clear as day. Seconds later, she had sunk a bullet in between Grayson’s eyes with Johnny’s pistol. A much more humane death than the bastard deserved. 

A stale silence hung between them, the only sound in the room the low hum of her fan and the bustle of the city from outside. Minutes passed before either of them dared to break it. 

“You were in so much pain. I’ve never felt anything like it.” V practically whispered, reaching a soft hand out to rest on Johnny’s shoulder. “You deserved better.”

Johnny proceeded to carefully swallow the lump in his throat, not quite trusting his voice to come out the way he wanted it to. “Nah.” He managed to mutter. 

“How did this turn back into me comforting you? Come on.” V teased, nudging him softly as she sensed the change in his body language. Weird, considering he didn’t actually have a body. 

After deliberating for a moment she finally shuffled herself closer to him, draping an arm over Johnny’s chest as she nuzzled her way up under his own arm. She felt his muscles tense briefly, finally relaxing once he’d realized what she was doing. 

Not that it made sense to him  _ at all _ , though.

“What, we a couple now?” 

“Shut up. We never speak of this again, alright? Just tonight.” 

“Fine by me.” 

The two layed like that for what felt like hours, listening to the other breath as the city hummed below them. It was strange, unfamiliar to say the least. But comfortable. The fact that they were even able to touch was a question that neither of them wanted to bother asking, perhaps for fear that the bubble would suddenly burst and the illusion would be broken. 

“Y’know, he was right.” Johnny piped up suddenly, stirring V from whatever half-sleep she may have drifted into. 

“What…?” 

“I did piss myself when I died.” 

He earned a light smack on the forehead in response, grinning at the reaction. 

“Let me have  _ one _ nice moment with you.” 


End file.
